


Peter and Pepperoni

by Coinkydinks



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted, No one knows Peter is Spider-man, One Shot, Spideypool - Freeform, strays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coinkydinks/pseuds/Coinkydinks
Summary: Peter finds a stray dog. Wade wants a dog. Peter has a habit of taking in strays.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	Peter and Pepperoni

Peter was like a drawing, with his hair and mouths and freckles just dusted in a concentrated spot on her upper cheeks and nose. Wade loved seeing the different facial actions that crossed his face, if you looked away, you’d miss the subtle changes, the crease in between his brown when he’s thinking too hard, the slight head tilt when something interesting comes to mind, or the distant look he has when he’s talking about his childhood, the sad, longing look that could be mistaken for the trick of the light, if you didn’t look close enough. Wade liked it especially when he made Peter laugh. It was rare to see Peter relaxed; he always looked so tense, like there were a million other things he was thinking of, whilst talking or sat tinkering away at his lab desk.  Wade like to watch Peter work, there was something about watching him, with his slight, manic excited look when a new idea came to mind, or how he couldn’t sit still for no longer then a minute when he that idea became a reality, and when that reality became something visible - something physical he could touch, Peter’s hands would not fall still, until they were around it. Wade could watch him for hours, if he let him - and be he, he meant Tony. Tony would also find an excuse to come into Peter’s lab to watch Wade. Sometimes, he swears he could feel Tony behind him, when he knows he’s not in the tower. At first, his visits had been brief, limited to a wave outside of the Avenger’s tower before Tony sent out an army of Iron Men suits after him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Peter would leave the window open and he’d sneak in before Jarvis had alerted Tony to his presence. 

One day Tony burst into the room,catching himself at the last second and falling into a casual stroll, failing at looking like he hadn't ran down eight flights of stairs. Peter was clutching at the lab's desk, laughing at a joke Wade had made. Wade can’t remember the joke - something about hot dogs and buns - all he remembers is Peter’s laugh. It was the first time he had seen him laugh, it was like a big exhaul left his body, all the tension rolled off his shoulders in one burst of uncontrollable laughter that left him with tear stain cheeks and a smile so wide that it hollowed out his cheek dimples.

After that, Tony’s ‘surprise visits’ had stopped and Wade’s had just begun.

* * *

“Hey, Peter!” Wade swiveled in his chair, knocking his feet against Peter’s lab table, “what’cha doin’?” 

“The same thing I was doing five minutes ago when you asked,” Peter replied.

“You haven’t had a break yet! Let's get lunch.”

“We literally ate an hour ago.”

Wade narrows his eyes, “that doesn’t usually stop you,” seeing a tug at the corner of his mouth, Wade pushes it, “you need a break! You’ve been sat hunched over for too long, if you’re not careful you’ll start looking like The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Wade arches his back to emphasize. 

“You look like a cat about to cough up a hairball,” he says, not looking away from his desk.

“Ooh! That’s a great idea, Petey. We should go pet shopping. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

Peter sighs, “I did not say that- wait.” his hands still, hovering over the small robot he’s been tinkering with, “what did you say?”

“I’ve always wanted a dog?” Wade tilts his head to one side, watching Peter as he slowly regains his attention, Wade’s chest rises with it, an odd mixture of pride and anticipation in capturing his attention, now that he had it, he wasn’t about to let it go; it was like holding a kite’s string in the middle of a hurricane, once it is gone, it is gone for good. 

“Yes, i’d love to come home to -” his mouth closes around ‘you,’ as Tony walks into the room. The sound of celebratory trumpets follow. “Do you like my new soundtrack, Pete?” but Peter isn’t listening, in fact, he’s on his feet, throwing off his lab coat over his chest and announces he’s taking a break, hooking his elbow in Wade’s and pulling him along. Tony arches a brow at then both. Wade shrugs, trailing behind Peter on the wheely chair.

Wade abandoned the wheely chair in one of the Tower’s hallways, after realising he couldn’t hold on to Peter’s arm and the wheely at the same time, especially going downstairs - and trust me, he tried,but the second Peter’s arm started to loosen around Wade’s, he knew what he had to do. 

Peter led him downtown. Wade was surprised, Peter knew the streets as well as he did, navigating his way through, cutting corners and knowing which alleyways to take and not to take unless he wanted to come out on the other side. Wade did not ask how, or why they were downtown. For a moment, he thought Peter was taking him to an italian restaurant, Venezia. Instead, Peter went around the back, slowing down to a stop and kneeling in front of a dumpster, with thin, erect duvet sheets tied to the back and an open, red umbrella in the entrance, tunneling to the back of the alleyway. 

“Er, Peter, what are you-” Peter shushes him. 

“Pepperoni!” he calls. A shadow casts over the tunnel. Wade closed the distance between him and Peter in one stride, blocking the entrance to Peter.

“Peter, be careful!” the shadow fell away. A low, strained noise, caught between a growl and a whimper sounded from the mouth of the make-shift den.

"It's okay, it's okay." Peter tried to reassure. He wasn’t talking to Wade - not fully, he looked at where the shadow fell, and called “Pepperoni! Here boy, I bet you’re hungry. Here, I know it’s a little early for lunch, but-” he lowers his backpack to the floor, bringing out leftover chinese they had earlier. There’s a sniff - then another, cautiously, the shadow moves out from the tunnel. 

Pepperoni resembled a mattered, dirty mop with legs, cleaning up what was left of the chinese food. 

“Pepperoni!” hearing his name, Pepperoni came closer to Peter, his eyes trained on Wade’s. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you,” he promises. With a tired, content sigh, Pepperoni deflates into Peter’s arms, flattening him to the ground, with the occasional tentative lick to his hands.

“You said you wanted a dog. Pepperoni is New York’s finest,” he holds him out in front of him. Pepperoni stares at him blankly from beneath a curtain of dry, crusty fur, hardened with dirt. He’s old and smells really badly, like really, really badly and sometimes when he eats things he shouldn’t his breath is unbearable, but underneath all of this,” he shakes him a little, “he’s clever - he’s made it this far on the streets! - and he gives the best hugs. I would have him, but my landlord does not allow pets…” Peter draws him in to his chest, bringing a tentative hand over his head, “even if he did, I could not afford to keep him,” he rubs the back of one of his ears, dislodging the chunks of dirt on the tuft of his greying fur.

“Maybe, if you have him, I could come over…” Wade catches the start of his uncertainty by the tail and swallows, staring down at the pair of puppy dog eyes. 

“You’re telling me… I get a dog AND a Peter? Give me a hard one, this is a no brainer!” Wade cracks a smile. Peter and Pepperoni share a look, and Wade’s crack widens watching the both of them fumble to their feet, colliding into Wade. Wade lets himself fall onto his back, into a heap of entangled limbs. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Peter falters, Wade’s hands coming to his waist to steady him. Wade’s callus skin, against Peter’s, untouched, spared from life’s cruel, sadistic humour was conflicting; he wanted to hold him closer and shield him from harm’s way, and at the same time he wanted to push him away, knowing what he could do - what he was capable of doing. Peter’s thumb eased the line crossing his forehead, smoothing it down with a hum. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wade mirrors Peter’s actions, bringing his hand close to his face. Peter leans in to Wade’s touch, closing his eyes. Wade’s breath hitches in the back of his throat; there is no hesitation. He does not even flinch at the feel of Wade’s hands, scarred and hardened. The thought of seeing how far he could go, both terrified and aroused Wade back to reality. Pepperoni pushes his forehead against Wade’s arm with a huff. Peter’s eyes flicker open, bringing Pepperoni into a hug, “don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you!”

“I can’t believe you’ve named him Pepperoni, after your parents.”

Peter tilts his head, pursing his lips, “what do you mean?”

“Really? Pepperoni… Pepper and Tony?”

Peter freezes, his eyes widening, “holy shit!” he bursts out laughing, falling onto his back, taking Pepperoni down with him. “Pepperoni!” he balances him above his head, touching his round, wet nose with his, “see, what did I tell you? You’re part of the family!” he cranes his neck over to Wade, adding, “they’re not really my parents, you know.”

Wade shrugs, “close enough.” Peter accepts this, returning to booping Pepperoni’s nose with him. 

Sometimes, Wade thinks, sometimes you’ll wake up, thinking the worst part of your day is waking up, because it means you’re alive and you have to live another day, pretending that you’re happy that you woke up, pretending that it was a good morning, that it does not hurt for you to walk to your door, or it feels like your skin is on fire or too tight for you, and all you want to do is tear it off. And the best part of your day is watching someone, you’re watering that seed of doubt every time you’re with them, because the more you watch them, the more you realise how perfect they are and how not perfect you are. 

“Peter,” 

And you want to tell them all of the awful things you’ve done, you tell them about the voices in your head, because you think, if anyone will stay, it’s him.

“Mhmm?”

“Do you want to come back to mine, after work I mean.”

Peter lowers Pepperoni to the floor. “I’d love to.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Really this is an apology one shot for taking so long to update "Wanted: Step-dad" and leaving you on a cliffhanger... again.


End file.
